The Garden Man

Fluffy little fic, DG. Draco plants a garden in Ginny's absence. Characters belong to Jo, as does setting. I own the silly little plot :


The sky was blue.

The clouds were white and fluffy and had the near-promise of rain, a promise he was sure wouldn't go through. It was June sixteenth, and her date was finally there.

He wiped sweat from his brow and took a good look around the plushness that surrounded him. His eyes traveled to the bench in the corner, where all her letters were held down by a smooth, small velvet box. He smiled.

She was studying abroad, his lady. She went from Romania to Egypt, from Bermuda to Spain. She sent him daily letters, each describing her various activities of the day, as well as photos of her with dragons and sphinxes, turtles and famous landmarks. He, of course, had seen them all, and they spoke daily of the sights and sounds of each place she had been.

Finally, though, after four long months, she was returning back to him. He had kept the countdown in his head, readying himself for her homecoming. He had had the house cleaned and everything polished, every room dusted and brightened. The Manor was more than just a building, now. It thrummed with activity and light, and seemed to hum in response to his endless self-babble. It was, as his mother had dreamt, finally a home.

More often than not, though, he found himself in his mother's old garden. Just days after Ginny had left him, he had been standing on the balcony, staring into the mess of massive vines and weeds. The next morning, he had donned gloves and - privy to anyone else - a gigantic floppy hat, to protect his porcelain skin, and set off with the key to that chaos of leafy greenness.

Now, all those months of hard work had begun to pay off. He had weeded and dug, pulling up ugly flowers and derooting unattractive vines. He had replaced the uncontrollable weeds with roses and tulips, chrysanthemums and phlox. Baby's breath, African violets, foxglove and pinkroot were now blooming freshly in the summer sun, their buds bursting into color as the sun kissed them. He turned, slowly, and touched each of them gently, watching them sway and bob with his touch.

He checked his watch and slipped inside for a moment, politely asking one of the house elves if they would be so kind as to fix some lemonade and take it out to the garden. Then he slipped upstairs and hid his floppy hat, stuffing it into the very back of the first drawer he came upon. He checked himself in the mirror - his skin, however sheltered, had a little bit of pink - and then disappeared down the stairs again, out into the garden. He rubbed his hands together in anxiety; his plan was set, and everything was running smoothly.

The tinkling of ice cubes and glasses distracted him from the brief 'pop' that sounded inside, and soon he was walking the slow winding paths through his masterpiece, double-checking everything.

The open doors finally carried her voice through the curtains flapping in the breeze, and he reveled in how it felt to his ears. He could hear her approaching now, as he listened, and felt his nerves tighten in anticipation. Would she like it? Did he pick the right ones? Would she think less of him for gardening in her absence, doing a woman's job instead of finding some healthier hobby?

Despite himself and his overwhelming excitement for her return, he reasoned that it had made him feel better about himself. The summer sun put his insomniac sleep schedule back on track, and put color in his face. He noticed when he spotted himself offhandedly in the mirror that his eyes had a certain twinkle - he grimaced at the thought, but it made him want to chuckle - in his once-cold eyes, brightened by the person who, he realized, was walking down the pathway now, led blindfolded by a grinning house elf.

When she had stumbled through the gate and was at the very center of the garden, in very close proximity to himself - so close he could smell her through all the flowers, how he missed her scent! - she was instructed to remove the blindfold, and he decided subconsciously that he had missed those eyes as well.

The sight of her four-year beau sent her heart fluttering, and she took a moment to take a deep breath and take him in.

She bit back a laugh as she noticed his attire - dirtied khakis with a black t-shirt, dragon-hide boots and gloves - but smothered it with her hand, faking it as a gasp. He grinned at her, then - the way he grinned! - and held out a hand, palm up.

She cocked her head to the side and pulled off the glove, placing her soft, smooth hand into his slightly roughened one. She raised a meticulous eyebrow, and he smirked at the unconscious gesture he missed so much.

"You," she said incredulously, "did all this?"

She motioned to the entire garden with her free hand, and he pulled her after him, turning to take the first path.

"I had a lot of spare time," he drawled offhandedly, and she laughed.

"Draco Malfoy," she snickered, "flower extraordinaire."

He turned his head toward her, giving her a reprimanding glare, hardly reaching his heart, and her face colored in shame.

"Oh, Draco, you know I'm kidding," she murmured, and he rubbed his thumb over the soft exposed skin of her hand, nodding.

"I just missed you, that's all."

"What are all of them called?" she asked, changing the subject, motioning to the many colorful plants around her. He squeezed her hand and grinned, tugging her along further down the pathway as he proceeded to tutor her on every flower he had planted.

Finally, they had come to the very center of the garden, where the flowers leaned away from the table and chairs around it. On the table, next to the lemonade, moved from their positions on the stone bench, were her many letters and pictures and that little velvet box. His skin tingled happily as he thought of what lay inside it.

"Draco," she breathed as she spotted the lemonade and her many letters, "what is all this?"

He let go of her hand briefly to circle the table, snatching the box off of it before she saw it. A house elf waiting behind some nearby bushes saw his quick movements and his subtle nod, and began bustling around the path, meandering toward them, with a fresh bouquet of every kind of flower that he had planted.

"My darling woman," he murmured silkily to her as he approached her, "this is my gift to you."

She cocked an eyebrow and laughed, lighting up her eyes. He itched to kiss each eyelid for keeping her russet orbs so safe.

An old house elf with crows feet at the corners of its eyes ambled toward them, bouquet in hand.

"Flowers for your pretty lady, master?" it squeaked, and Draco scooped them from its hands, placing them gently in Ginny's.

"Only the prettiest," he murmured, and anxiously waited for her to lift them to her nose, as was expected.

When she pressed her face into the bouquet and closed her eyes to take a deep breath, he whipped out the velvet box with shaking hands and opened it, placing it right before her face. As she opened her eyes and mouth to say something, her eyes caught the ring - a beautifully cut stone, she had to say - her eyes welled up with tears and she threw her arms around his neck, thwacking him with the bouquet.

"Oh, Draco!" she cried, as she leaned away from him for long enough that he could slip the ring on her finger, "Oh, I never expected this, I - I don't know what to - "

"Just say yes, love," he murmured, pressing kisses all along her jaw, curling his arms around her, clutching at her light emerald sundress, as if he could never let go. "Say you'll never go away again, and you'll stay here and raise my babies."

She laughed as she leaned away to cup his face in her hand, pressing her forehead to his.

"Well, babies or not, if going away means you'll create heavens like these, maybe next time I'll make it longer," she joked.

He only raised a crazed eyebrow at her and pressed his lips to hers in a sweet, brief kiss.

"Say yes," he said, kissing her the same way. He did it once again, and she laughed.

"Alright, alright!" she cried, stroking his face. Softer, she murmured, "Alright. Of course it's a yes."

"But!" she shrilled, pushing away, "I have to get something, first."

Curious, he let her go, watching her weave her way back to the house. After a few moments of waiting and wondering, she returned with something behind her back. He cocked an eyebrow, and she swung her arms around now, holding a giant floppy hat.

"I just wanted to know what this is," she spluttered, dissolving into giggles.

Despite the crack, he snatched the hat out of her hands, plopped it on his head, and swept her into a breathtaking kiss.

And that was how Draco Malfoy became Ginny Weasley's garden man.